inside this black hole
where no light trespasses
his linga alone does,
smoothly into the event horizon
marking a point of no return

even sand clocks
at this gateway to heaven
tick slower
as gravitational time dilation
takes over

upon entry
no escape routes
or parachutes
exist for exit

only a free fall
into singularity
where space-time curvature
becomes infinite

odds of mere mortals
surviving this plummet
are nine billion to one

any volunteers?

© 2019

this land
i know not
yet feel in every pore
melts
the chocolate of my heart
and rains
clouds of memories
of halcyon past

like an unseen
alter ego
you become
soul’s soliloquy
in life’s theater

a tranquil resort
for spirit
that flys me away
from the forbearing demands
of existence
and the whimsical inexactitude
dubbed life

Soto!
in spirit
i have become
one with thee
will thou accept me as thy lover?

© 2019

the astrologer within
has made a prediction....
this heart has about
a billion beats left

so dance Kali
dance
fully dressed
or naked

not in the amphitheaters of Rome
but over my corpse
in the ghats of Manikarnika
where my cremated ashes
will be dissolved
in that same river
you so heartlessly condemned me to

as you cut a rug in ecstasy
with bloodied eyes,
forget not that
this body of mine was your theater
my eyes, the showcase lights
my in and outgoing breath
the music of the orchestra,
my heartbeat
the tintinnabulation of your anklets

the candle of love
that i lit and housed
within me
kept your id and ego
in perfect balance

this candle is fast melting
but it’s my tears
which now run like a river
that will remain forever

this show is closer to its end....

the sound that you now hear
which fill the moribund skies
emanate from the cosmic drum
which beats louder and louder

©2019

only when i hear
those magical words:
“i love you”
leave your enticing
bow shaped lips
do i have a raison d’etre

absent  
i wander like a recluse
half mad, half nomad
fully devoid of purpose

the altruistic love
you shower
eternally charges
the battery of my existence
sans la quelle
juke box of life ceases to play

these temporary duracells
are withering away radhika
end this tirade,
come lock your lips with mine
like we used to
in the good old days of the vraj

© 2019